I didn't mean to sound cold. I didn't feel it. I was just defeated. At a loss. When David didn't respond immediately I risked a glance at him. It made me want to cry.
For once his face wasn't a blank slate. But seeing him miserable didn't help. It made it worse.
Then, as I watched, he blinked and cleared his expression, and the transformation was stunning. And terrifying.
I looked away, but it was burned into my head: His face... still. Nothing. A mask. Someone suffering a mild irritation, maybe. Boredom definitely.
Someone who wasn't in any way emotionally ruffled.
Anyone looking at him would see nothing but a King, weary at the end of the day and pretending interest in ten women who were all trying to pretend they weren't watching every move he made.
My insides began to fight each other.
